The Ball of Chaos
by Chlstarr
Summary: Minerva's an evil sorceress and Mickey is her minion. A noble is holding a ball this evening and naturally she wants to attend to cause problems, what else is new. However the noble holding the ball is an idiot, and crosses certain lines with Minerva, resulting in suitable punishment. How else could things go wrong?


AN: Welcome to my 22nd story here on FF! And Happy 87th Birthday/Anniversary Mickey and Minnie!

A friend of mine over on Tumblr came up with this delicious AU in which Minnie is an evil sorceress with fashion inspired by Elsa's Ice dress from Frozen. And Mickey is her minion. Very simple really. She's a super powerful sorceress too, capeable of shaking a mountain with her pinkie if she so desired. Enjoy!

* * *

Upon Mickey's return from the market, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief that he escaped his pursuers. Seriously though, why go through so much trouble over a loaf of bread? To be fair Mickey did pay for everything except the bread and thus resorted to the easy old tactic of stealing it. Oh well, at least they stopped chasing him as soon as they realized that he was heading towards the "Demon's Keep." It was a place of taboo, known as a forbidden place to tread out of the whole kingdom. Thankfully not many were brave or stupid enough to ever enter this "cursed" land. Not even the King dared to try to conquer and tame it, for the "demon" who guarded it was said to be unspeakably evil and powerful beyond compare using the crystals that grew there as its power source.

Mickey choked on his own chuckle at remembering all those ridiculous rumors. Although, like all stories and fairy tales, there was some truth to them...For instance, the being that guarded Demon's Keep really was unspeakably evil and powerful beyond compare. Well, the unspeakably part was a bit of a stretch, it was more accurate to say that she was chaotically evil, for she only did evil things out of boredom… mostly. As for the false things, well, the "demon" in question was actually a mouse maiden, and her name was Minerva. The land wasn't really cursed just heavily guarded by Minerva to the point that no matter where she is, she can tell whenever someone enters her territory. As for the crystals...no, she doesn't use them as a power source, they're just all over the place, (though she does wear one around her neck as a choker) and it was a wonder that there weren't more desperate thieves or bandits trying to steal them like Mickey was dumb enough to do, simply because he was tired of being the butler of some chauvinistic pig known as Mortimer Rodent (pronounced "Rodawn"), who also was supposedly a warlock. Except that Mortimer sucked at it, he couldn't even conjure a bunny out of a hat if he tried, well not on his own anyway, for some reason his magic was stronger when he was sick, and when he was sick every time he sneezed something magical happened, and that was about it. So Mickey was used to seeing mild forms of magic.

That is, until he saw Minerva for himself since she caught him red-handed in her territory, she nearly speared him with a flare arrow to his heart. Figuratively speaking, she did as she was so beautiful in his eyes that he actually mistook her for an angel even though she assured him that she wasn't, even so he begged to be her servant in exchange for letting him live. Evidently, she was flattered enough to take him up on his offer, but just to make sure he would keep his word of doing absolutely _**anything**_ for her and only her, she put a spell on him to ensure his loyalty. Not that she needed to in Mickey's opinion, but he knew she wouldn't believe him otherwise so he just went with it since all he wanted was to be by her side for the rest of his days. Though she left his common sense in tact just in case that she, in her boredom of being all powerful and going unchallenged, led her to do something extremely stupid. Evil does have standards after all. But if there was one downside to the whole deal Mickey had made with her, it was that she never asked for his name and instead simply called him, Minion.

Mickey came back to reality and quickly started putting away the groceries as soon as he heard the clacks of her heels coming down the hallway, heading towards him.

"Causing trouble again, Minion?" His Mistress asked with a wry smile.

"Of course, Mistress. Got chased through town all because I stole a loaf of bread and I managed to cause some chaos along the way." Mickey replied cheerfully.

"Such a good boy," she complimented with a wicked grin. She lost her grin when she realized the cause was over something extremely petty even in her eyes. "But over a simple loaf of bread? Piffle! Mortals are even pettier than you said when it came to these common stones." She gestured around the room in reference to all the jewels that were within the walls of her humble and sinister looking abode.

"Yes, they can be, Mistress." Mickey replied simply in agreement, sighing through his nose for good measure.

"Any interesting news in town?" She asked knowingly. She knew he had something of interest, as he still had a slight smirk plastered on his face.

"Some noble is holding a ball this evening, and I figured ya'd want ta go." He suggested coolly. Mickey knew his Mistress secretly loved to dance, problem was she also loved to cause discord in a room full of people. Oh well…At least she took the time to doll herself up before causing problems.

"Wonderful! It's about time some brazen fool gathered enough courage to throw a party. I know just the tricks to use to spice things up this time around." She squealed in glee, as she stepped over to her trinity mirror. A woman had to see herself from all angles when deciding what to wear for such occasions after all.

Again, despite being under her spell for absolute obedience, Mickey had half a mind of common sense and practicality, unfortunately Minerva mostly did as she pleased and overruled his common sense more often than not by tightening his obedience as if it were a magic invisible leash. Regardless, he tried anyway. "Um…Mistress, perhaps for once we could go to a ball without cursing anyone, or wreaking havoc or-!"

"Minion, please." She cut him off sharply. Though her tone sweetened again for her next sentence. "What fun is it going to a ball without a little bit of chaos here and there?" Mickey knew well enough that she wouldn't let him answer, and she didn't. With a snap of her fingers, she got right down to business, instantly changing her usual skin tight outfit into a very stunning dress. "Now, how does this look? Is it mesmerizing enough?" Again she didn't give him time to answer, as she thought of something better. With another snap of her fingers she changed into a different dress, this one looked absolutely gorgeous in Mickey's honest opinion, and she looked like she could be a princess. "Or maybe I should go with something more…Enchanting? Does this look like I can steal the hearts of mortals? Be honest, Minion."

"Uh- I-Um…That one! Definitely that one!" He stumbled on his first few words then practically shouted in excitement.

Minerva was slightly taken aback by his enthusiasm, but hid it very well, showing only a small snippet of her surprise by raising an eyebrow at him. Giving the dress another once over, and keeping her minion's absolute honest opinion in mind, she agreed that this was the perfect dress for the occasion.

"Alright, this dress it is…Now, what to do about you, my dearest Minion…" She said with a sly smile, stepping away from the three mirrors and started to circle around Mickey.

"I'm flattered Mistress, but ya don't have ta-!"

"Nonsense," She cut him off again, but not as sharply as the first time. "If I'm going to have an escort, you _have_ to look worthy enough to _be_ my escort." With that, she snapped her fingers again but pointed the magic at him. In turn, it transformed his ordinary clothes into that of a highest ranking noble. Mickey's untouched common sense wondered how he was going to pull off looking like a noble, as he wouldn't be recognized. As if reading his mind, Minerva answered that for him. "There, now you can pass yourself off as a noble from another country."

"What country?" Mickey couldn't help but ask.

"This one of course." She smiled back mischievously. She meant her own territory, seeing as she ruled over it, not to mention that it practically was a different country, and a very forbidden one at that.

"M-Mistress! Ya don't mean ta-!"

"Introduce myself as myself? Of course! A noble hasn't held a ball in ages because they know I'll show up." Minerva declared jovially. "For one to finally hold a ball now is either holding it as a coming out party, _or is a_ _ **fool**_ _who doesn't know the meaning of fear_ …My bet is on the latter, and I intend to make the best of it."

"For once I agree with you Mistress, as I did hear that the host of this ball was warned multiple times about you but scoffed at the notion of ya even existing." Mickey told her, though it probably was the only thing he ever said without common sense, as that remark only added the fuel to her fire.

"All the more reason to put the fool in his place." Minerva replied darkly. Mickey was used to feeling the dark energy she gave off whenever she used her powers to a more dangerous extent. However, feeling it come off of her when she's feeling nothing but raw anger and is somehow managing to hold back her powers is a whole other story. He could only hope nothing too bad would happen at that ball, but when Murphy's Law comes to mind, there's no guarantees.

* * *

When the time came, Minerva teleported the both of them to the center of town and let her Minion lead the way since he knew where the ball was being held. As they walked, she got the feeling that this was one ball that she'd want to linger in before having her fun, and that meant having to lay low at first.

"Minion, I'm getting the feeling that I'll really like this party, so I won't use my powers for maybe an hour at most, less if someone happens to cross me. In the meantime, I'm going to have to call you something other than, Minion, if we're going to pull this off." She explained. "Any suggestions?"

"Mickey." Her minion answered without hesitation. "Or, Michael if we need ta be absolutely formal about this."

Since he answered her so quickly, and now that she thought about it, she never did ask him for his name when they first met, she put two and two together and realized that it must've been his name. Both the formal real name and the preferable nickname. She rolled the nickname silently along her tongue and in her head a few times, and deemed it surprisingly suitable. However, she was too prideful for her own good, though her hesitance was duly noted by her minion and even he knew that she wouldn't apologize, she went ahead and praised his brilliance.

"Perfect, my dear Minion. For tonight and maybe even when you're an exceptionally good boy, I'll call you as such." She said finally, unable to help letting him silently know that she did take it all into consideration. Mickey did catch on to what she wasn't saying, and took it in stride. She did care, she just refused to show it a good chunk of the time.

When they reached the residence that was holding this ball, she single handedly took out anyone who looked like a guard, and they walked in without anyone taking too much notice… _at first anyway_. Minerva proved to be just as enchanting as her minion had said, and soon caught the attention of just about every letch who happened to look her way. Her ego was boosted upon feeling the entirety of the male gaze on her, moreso as she felt Mickey shake slightly beneath her touch as he was doing his best to hide his jealousy. She couldn't help but smirk, it raised her ego even more. Her minion was so adorable at times.

Soon they had taken to the dance floor, but fifteen minutes in the dancing they were interrupted by someone Mickey quite visibly cringed at, but his expression went unnoticed as the interrupter only had eyes for Minerva.

"Ha cha cha, mind if the host of this fancy soiree cuts in for a dance with the ravishing belle of the ball?"

If Minerva had any qualms of this brazen intrusion, she didn't show it and was all smiles with a voice as sweet as honey.

"Of course not. Certainly you may." She replied cheerily and turned to Mickey and gave him something to do. "Won't you be a dear and get me a quick refreshment? There's a good boy."

"Yes Mi-m'lady." Mickey replied. However, before Mickey could turn to leave her side, the host recognized him.

"Hey, waitaminute squirt, don't I know you from somewhere? Yeah, I do don't I, Mickey? What are you doin' mingling with the guests? You're supposed to be on kitchen duty tonight! Get back to where ya belong short stuff, you're not ready for the big leagues." The host went on to flick Mickey in the nose, but his hand was frozen by some unseen force. Though Mickey himself, knew that it was his Mistress' doing.

"I'm sorry, but you must have him confused for someone else. This is _**my**_ servant and escort, and he has been such for some time. You would be _**wise**_ to not lay a hand nor finger on him in _**my presence**_." Minerva said in a sickly sweet tone and uttered a few words rather darkly to get her threatening hints across. She nudged her head at Mickey and mouthed to him to carry on his task. He bowed his head and quickly went on his way.

"Wait a second! You're trying ta tell me that you're the one doing this to me?" The host asked, genuinely bewildered as he gestured to his outstretched frozen hand with his literally and figuratively free one.

"Obviously." Minerva scoffed in a rather unladylike manner, with extra phlegm as she pronounced the 'o' to be precise. Though she did sense something else in the way he asked. "Why? Is there a problem with that?"

"There's no way a little girl like you can do something like this, ha cha cha! Now, could ya kindly direct me to the perpetrator who is behind this dumb parlor trick, sweetie? 'Cause I'd like to get my hand back." The host boasted, oblivious to the dangerously dark look the truly evil woman before him was giving him.

Still keeping up the sickly sweet demeanor however, she had to ask one more question before she put this chauvinist fool in his place. "I'm sorry, what was your name again? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

"I'm the host of this ball, sweetie. Mortimer Rodawn." He replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He was still oblivious to the darkness emitting from her, let alone the fire that was so clearly in her eyes. He figured out about it as soon as rocks broke through his marble flooring and molded around him and formed a stone stocks barricade. For good measure Minerva also had a small pillar of stone sitting just a few inches underneath Mortimer's family… _stones_.

Minerva had recognized his name instantly, as her beloved minion had told her of the silly ventures of this wannabe warlock who couldn't conjure a single thing except when he was sick, and uncontrollably sneezed rabbits out of thin air. Her minion had also mentioned how this, this rat treated his women. Like they were nothing more than trophies to admire one at a time and grow bored with them once he's had his fun.

"Still a parlor trick to you, _Mortimer_?" She asked darkly and said his name with so much venom, it was a wonder that he wasn't dead as soon as she said it. "It really shouldn't be considering that you were warned about little ol' me countless times. I even heard that you denied the notion of my existence." She then stepped closer to him and whispered very darkly into his ear. " _Not every myth is truly a fairytale. I bet half of the monsters under your bed were real too, but then you're not worth any of their time_."

Naturally, as soon as she set up the stone made stocks barricade around him, the nervous murmurs swept through the party goers, and reached Mickey's ears over by the punch bowl. He abandoned his task in favor of trying to be the common sense to hold his Mistress back from doing anything stupid. The punch was spiked anyway, and she hates the taste of alcohol. She only ever drinks any when it's necessary for medicinal purposes.

"Oh, cheese wheels. What'd he do?" Mickey asked her after he made his way through the gathering crowd, and stumbled upon the scene Minerva had long since set up.

"He had the gall to honestly think that I wasn't the one freezing his hand when he nearly struck you earlier." Minerva quipped her reply, not bothering to look at her minion and kept her stern gaze on her foolish prisoner.

"Ooh, ya really shouldn't have done that, pal. She doesn't like it when someone questions her power." Mickey told Mortimer, having made a sound of pity for the possibility that the taller rodent was in for a world of pain.

"No refreshments?" Minnie asked offhandedly when she briefly glanced in Mickey's direction.

"Nope, sorry. Somebody spiked the punch, and I know how much ya don't like the taste." He replied.

"Such a good boy." Minerva cooed. Then got a devious idea. "Would you like to do the honors my dear?" She couldn't help but smirk even more widely as Mickey's eyes lit up from her suggestion.

"Certainly! But, uh, it'd be a little easier ta do if ya wouldn't mind moving the thing of stone that's underneath 'im. I kinda wanna get a clear shot at him." Mickey said with a blush.

Minerva was taken back a bit because she thought he was simply going to punch him, but she complied because that would be equally painful to Mortimer if not more. She conjured a hand fan and hid her wicked smile behind it as she gleefully watched her minion kick Mortimer hard and sharply in the groin. The pain traveled up and then back down, and Mortimer couldn't move his hands to clutch his stomach to help barely soothe the pain.

"Guards! Guards! Somebody help me get out of this!" Mortimer finally started shouting as soon as he was over the pain.

Guards that Minerva had missed because they were guarding the second floor started surrounding the room from the second floor baclonies, all of them had crossbows aimed at the two of them.

"Hey! I said get down here and help me get out of this! Don't shoot them!" Mortimer complained.

One arrow flew and nicked Mickey's left cheek. The man who accidentally unleashed that arrow was then thrown back against the wall. Then an enormous breeze wafted throughout the room, lifting up all the ladies skirts, except Minerva's. Minerva then grabbed a hold of her minion and transported them out of there and back home.

If there was one thing she absolutely detested the idea of but refused to admit, was that she didn't like it when her minion got hurt. Sure it was one thing whenever fools who dared to invade her territory did manage to get past her senses and attack, she tried to order her minion to hide, but he always proved capable of protecting himself and putting up a good fight even without magic. Still, she hates the idea that she can't protect him from everything, not even death.

As soon as they were home she rushed to her herb cavern to get the necessary herbs to treat the wound with. It didn't help that she didn't get a good look at it in the first place, and completely ignored her minion shouting after her that it was just a scratch.

When she returned with the herbs she needed, having long since reverted her attire back to her usual form fitting purple evening like gown, she found him sitting on his stool by the kitchen counter, covering his wound with his sleeve.

"Mistress, I'm fine." He protested before she even did anything.

"Mickey," She said sternly but gently. His eyes widened at the use of his name at last, he couldn't help but blush at how wonderful it sounded from her lips. "Let me see it." He complied, solely for the hope that she might say his name again.

It really was just a scratch, but it was still big enough to need the herbs.

"Sorry we didn't get to stay as long as ya would've liked." Mickey couldn't help but say, as his ears drooped.

"That doesn't matter. What matters, is that a fool was finally put in his place for both of our sakes. And every woman in that room who dared to even think for a second that they were prettier than me, won't be able to look a single man from that ball in the eye again." Minerva scoffed indigently.

So that's what the wind was for.

"Ya do know yer the prettiest in the world, right?" Mickey complimented her.

"I know," She replied simply out of pride. "But please, do go on."

On and on he complimented her on the things he loved about her since the day they met, even through his small hisses of pain from a stinging herb every now and then. With each compliment flattering her to the fullest of ego boosting pride. She wouldn't accept anything less.


End file.
